Cold Blooded Beast Novels & Stories

Elijah's breathing in his arms was even and gentle, wrapped securely, cut off from all the malevolence and chill of this place. The moment he stepped into the depths of the Mystic Mountains, a bone-piercing cold spread wildly along his marrow. This cold was neither the chill of a mortal winter nor the icy nature of dark cultivation arts, but a freezing that arose from the depths of soul essence itself, capable of immobilizing physical strength, consciousness, and even the soul together.

The flames turned into jagged shards of orange glass that fell and shattered on the ground. "We can't get close, Emma!" Félix shouted, his daggers useless against the void. "It’s not a physical cold! It’s the Absence of Motion!" I looked at the Iron-Wolves of the South. They were standing at the edge of the plaza, their skin iridescent with the magnetized silver-iron of their new evolution. "Arthur! The Iron-Blood!" I cried. "Your marrow! It’s the only thing with enough density to resist the Zero!"

I was very skeptical of him, his presence and his intentions at this place. Apparently, he was more powerful than any of the known creatures in the region. I wouldn’t necessarily be suspicious if he hadn’t used the powers in front of me. Because no one else would be able to manipulate electronics, winds or fires, except the demons in myth. Though I didn’t believe in Benjamin’s rambles on the demon hypothesis, I was pretty sure Mr. Drakos was neither a werewolf nor a vampire. And this led to another crucial question, why had he been here?

With a scary look on his face, that man was gazing at Beast. Beast ordered a table and put his hand on it. In a nick of time, the colour of the light bulb turned red and Beast turned into a butcher, who was separating every single finger from his hand. The man was screaming in pain. But Beast was standing in a relaxed posture doing his work. Similarly, he also separated the fingers from his other hand. Now it was the turn of his feet.

His heart was frozen, filled with tar. He was a Beast. And nothing would change him. He was a skilled manipulator. One that made you doubt yourself. More than physical torture, he aimed for mental one. A part of me was worried. Even scared for this man with warm eyes. He looked like he hadn’t faced the darkness of this world. Like he wasn’t tainted with the filth I was sinking deep in. For some reason, I wanted to keep it that way. ***

Sandra asked and Gemma just nodded like it was the most normal thing. She was unbelievable. No one in their right mind woke up in the morning to go to the weapons house in the morning. Those were trips to be made in the afternoon, not early morning, and certainly not when they were dressed like mafia women. Oh, but they were hot as hell, dammit. "Yeah why not. Besides, we'll be going to the shooting range later. I heard that werewolves are allergic to silver, so I got Logan to prepare some silver bullets for us.

Before l can think of something to do my eyes almost popped up from their sockets when Venus's shifted into a beast too. I was so shocked that l didnt notice the beast black in color almost teared my fresh. If it's not a big brown beast that bounced on it, l would have been dead by now.. The brown beast teared the black one and it gave out aloud howling. It kept on struggling against the brown who was in control. I took a glance at my sorroundings still shivering. And realization hit me hard that there is no single human left apart from me. Where is Alex, Ron and other students? Did they also turn into beasts like Venus.

Plus, my doctor said my hormones were out of balance, and I needed a way to relieve the stress. However, I already had a wolfhound at home. Salem Tarr would definitely have taken issue with it. Sensing my hesitation, the vendor kicked the beastkin. "Get up and show the lady your muscles." The beastkin rose to his feet slowly. Chains bound his body, and he could only remove his black T-shirt with one hand, instantly revealing his lean, pale muscles. However, his skin was covered in bruises and scars.

The elders nodded but the fear remained in their eyes as they watched their King slowly slip away and the unholy monster begin to take his place. Jessebelle raised her well trimmed eyebrow and asked, "Who is her?" her face turned down in a frown. The king sighed, having no patience for the vexing woman beside him. And all of a sudden, like a wave it hit him... The sensation of his mates blood being drawn. Any control he had of his beast was gone as in the next few seconds he had trasformed completely with low growl. The elders all stood up and stepped back as the beast ran through the room and out of the meeting hall. Jessebelle stood up her eyes wide with fear and confusion before her knees

The familiar scent of deer hung thick in the night, and my wolf instincts kicked in. I prowled through the underbrush, moving silently, my heart racing as the thrill of the hunt washed over me. The deer was blissfully unaware of my presence, its ears flicking at the slightest sound, but it wouldn’t sense me until it was too late. I crept closer, muscles coiling, and then sprang forward with a sudden burst of speed. My claws dug into soft flesh, and within moments, the deer lay still.